


rats died.

by sumirufus



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: BASICALLY SUICIDE IS PRETTY RELEVANT OK, Codependency, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, Suicide Attempt, Unlikely Friendships, tagged the ship but it's easy to read as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumirufus/pseuds/sumirufus
Summary: [NDRV3 SPOILERS]He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why the death orchestrated by others is ‘her exclusive death’. He doesn’t understand why she thinks the killing game is so amazing. He thinks it’s the most awful thing, to have your death be made into a spectacle for others.





	rats died.

**Author's Note:**

> kaede and ouma's original uniforms are the same colour and style, so i've always assumed they went to the same school together before the game -- i don't trust those "former school" symbols, fam.
> 
> general consensus from jp fans seems to be that prologue ouma was shy, so i tried to mix that and his game personality together.

“Do you wanna die?”

 He shouldn’t feel as ashamed at the words he hears as he does, but his stomach drops, and his face pales. When he turns to look at the person who addressed him, he sees a girl from the class across from him; he knows only her appearance, not her. But she’s caught him -- he can’t very well deny it when she’s spotted him scaling the chainlink barrier on the school roof.

 So he nods, because it’s true.

 She smiles at him, gently.

 “Come down,” She says, so he does. He didn’t even make it to the drop, didn’t even make it over the barrier. So much for trying to die. If he had any energy, any will for it, he’d laugh.

 He expects some speech from her, about how he shouldn’t give up, and things will get better -- garbage he’s heard before, that hasn’t alleviated any of the beast that gnaws at him with every breath he takes, every second he’s awake. What words can save him from the void his mind has collapsed into?

 “I want to die too,” She says instead. Her eyes are looking at him, but not _seeing_ him and he realises how empty her expression truly is.

 He shivers. 

“... Why’d you stop me?” 

“Don’t you think it’s a waste to die like that?” She smiles again -- it’s so fake, so hollow, like a black hole that threatens to swallow him up. 

“What do you mean…?”

 “Come with me,” She offers him her hand. “I’ll show you something.”

 Hesitantly, he takes it, and feels as though something has begun.

 

* * *

  

Her name is Kaede. She doesn’t give him her surname.

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?” He ribs her as they walk together. He hasn’t let go of her hand. Kaede gives him that same, empty smile in response.

“If you wanted me to know, you’d have told me,” She says simply, so he doesn’t say anything else, because she’s right. A few students who are still at school at this hour -- _if he’d jumped they’d have been the first ones to see him, probably_ \-- notice them, but their attention is drawn away again almost immediately, as if neither he nor Kaede really exist.

Maybe they don’t. He doesn’t think he’d be surprised if that were the case. 

Kaede leads, and he follows. It’s unsettling how naturally he’s settled into it; they talk about this and that while they go (she asks him about his hobbies, his classes, as if they’re catching up, as if she didn’t catch him trying to die, as if she didn’t admit she wanted to too). 

They walk around the area, they stop by a park; eventually they fall into silence, but their hands stay connected. He thinks it’s more for her sake than his -- probably. In a sense, it’s a tether to reality, to stop him floating away and falling. It’s most likely a similar situation for her. 

“It’s almost time for it to start,” She pulls out her phone when the sun starts to set, like clockwork. The glowing numbers read: 18:57. Three minutes until seven o’clock. With practiced ease, her thumb pages over the screen, bringing up a bookmarked link on her browser, a page that doesn’t load properly on her phone. She hits the video player and a logo fills the screen, black and white and red. He’s seen it before. 

“ _Danganronpa_ ?” He questions, to an enthusiastic nod from Kaede. For the first time since they’ve met (it’s only been a few hours; it feels like a few years) her expression is animated, eyes shining with… Something. Something that isn’t quite normal. Something _wrong_. 

“You know about it? Actually, it’d be weirder if you didn’t,” She laughs, eyes returning to the logo displayed. Her hand squeezes around his. “They always broadcast the first trial and execution live.”

He notices the clock change: 19:00. The video player warps sickeningly, displaying 15 characters in a circle, and a portrait with a hot pink cross splattered over it. He feels queasy. 

He knows about it, sure; he’s never actually _watched_ it, though. There’s no TV back home, his own phone too old to handle video players. His stomach flips with a sick curiosity as he watches. 

The trial takes about an hour, give or take. His palms are sweaty throughout the entire thing, but Kaede doesn’t let go. 

The flashy-looking boy with green hair (“Amami-kun,” Kaede supplies for him, in an awed voice) is the one who solves the case. Some bland looking boy with glasses that take up half his face is dragged off by a rope latching itself round his neck; the force is so strong he’s amazed his neck didn’t just break there and then. 

He’s a Super High School Level Chemist ( _supposedly_ ) -- the execution is grisly. There’s huge vials set up, filled with colourful liquids that bubble in a way that can’t be right. Dipped into one, then another, the chemicals stain his clothes, then his skin, and he can see the culprit’s mouth wide in a silent scream they don’t broadcast; his skin starts to bubble and twist and it’s _horrifying_. 

He whimpers. Kaede shuts off the video before the execution finishes. 

“That was intense,” She says with a shaky laugh, pocketing her phone. Then -- she wraps her free hand around his shoulders, bringing him into a hug. It’s soft, warm, and she smells nice (that thought makes him fluster) so he lets her, resting his head on her chest.

“That one was too much for me, but,” She leans her cheek on his head. “Wouldn’t it be much more satisfying to die like that?” 

“Satisfying?” He feels like he can only repeat her words back at her, when she talks like this. He feels, more than sees, her nod. 

“A death designed just for you,” She sighs, almost _dreamily_ . When she says it like that, he almost understands. “Isn’t it great? So much better than just offing yourself. And if you die on a show as big as _Danganronpa_ , your death is gonna mean something to someone, don’t you think?” 

He does think. For that moment, he _does_ think, and that’s terrifying. 

“I’m applying for the next season,” She tells him. “Want to come with me?” 

“I don’t know,” His voice shakes. It’s scary. It’s so scary, what she’s telling him-- Her face creases in sympathy. 

“Sorry, I’ve put a lot on you, haven’t I?” Her fingers card through his hair; he’s unused to such gentleness, and it’s frightening, but it isn’t unpleasant. “I got excited because you want to die too. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s-- okay,” He mumbles, squeezing her hand tighter -- because she wants to die too. She knows how he feels. It’s a strange feeling, fulfilling and lonely at the same time. But it’s the first time he’s felt connected to another person in so _long_. Is this what’s called being touch-starved? “You’re not alone anymore, Kaede-chan.” 

Her surprise is palpable. After a moment, she laughs -- it’s a real sound this time, not the hollow thing he heard today. 

“I’m not, am I?” She says, as if she can’t believe it. She probably can’t. If he’s being honest, neither can he. She squeezes him closer. _Neither are you_ , the gesture says.

“Let’s meet up again tomorrow?”

“... Okay.”

 

* * *

 

They meet up on the roof from then on. Lunchtimes, and after school; sometimes Kaede arrives first. Sometimes she comes much later, with sheet music in her hands.

 “I play piano,” She explains when he asks about it. “I’m not great at it, but… I like it a lot.”

 “... Can I hear you play?” His voice comes out barely above a whisper -- he finds it easier to talk to Kaede than anyone else he knows, but he’s still shy at heart. He’s just lucky she has such good hearing.

 “Sure,” She _beams_ at him -- _this one’s real_ , he thinks to himself as she watches her stuff the sheets into her bag. “I’ll try and think of a song that’d suit you and play it tomorrow. Sound good?”

 “Yeah,” He says, and leans on her when she takes her place beside him. It’s comfortable, being like this. Being next to someone else who wants to die. She’s become a spark in his dark world, a reason to keep going on. If he goes on, she goes on, and she goes on, so he goes on -- it’s a perfect cycle. Their rooftop meet-ups give him something to look forward to, someone to talk to about everything and nothing.

 “Hey, are you gonna tell me your name?”

 “I thought you were waiting for me to want you to know?” She snorts at his remark; biting, but delivered in such a hesitant tone.

 “I’m still curious,” She nudges him lightly. He nudges back. For a few minutes, they entertain themselves with increasingly harder pokes and nudges until he wobbles over and Kaede declares her victory.

 “You’re bigger than me, that’s cheating,” He complains as he picks himself back up, but he’s smiling. She rolls her eyes and nudges him back over again, muttering something about the fact he’s _such_ a pain in the neck. He doesn’t get back up, this time, and after a moment, she lies down next to him, and they watch as the sky fades from blue to orange.

 “Kokichi.”

 “Hm?”

 “Call me that.”

 “... Is that even your real name?”

 “Who knows,” He giggles as he responds. Kaede shoves him lightly with her foot.

 “And I was nice enough to give you _my_ real name,” She huffs, but he hears the smile in her voice. “But alright. Kokichi-kun.” 

“Kaede-chan,” He says back. Yes, that sounds good together. Kokichi and Kaede against the world. 

For a moment -- he forgets about wanting to die.

 He wonders if Kaede does too.

 

* * *

 

 He spots her between classes, one day. She’s surrounded by girls and boys alike, her mouth smiling, but he knows her well enough by now to see that her eyes are not.

 He wonders how the others don’t notice it, when it’s so obvious.

 She notices him, across the hall, and her eyes are just as empty as the day they first met.

 He looks away.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t turn up on the roof that day, and he fears the worst.

But he does to look for her. He can’t just leave her alone, especially if it’s his fault -- the thought of him hating her makes his stomach feel like it’s a gaping maw about to swallow him whole, but he pulls himself together and sets off. 

Kokichi goes to the music rooms first and is rewarded instantly; he can see her figure hunched over the piano, her fingers flying across the keys -- he can barely hear the melody through the soundproofing, but it’s something _angry_ , he can tell from the way she moves. 

He slides into the practice room and waits for her to be done. She nearly jumps out her skin when she sees him there. 

“Kokichi-kun!” She scolds him, hand covering her heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” 

“You should have heard me coming, Kaede-chan,” He offers a weak smile in response. “What were you playing?” 

“ _Der Erlkönig,_ ” She says the words slowly, then makes a face. “I think that’s how you pronounce it. It’s a piece I like to play when I’m mad.” Kaede flops back down on the piano stool, casting her gaze to the window. “Oh… Were you waiting for me? Sorry, Kokichi-kun,” 

“It’s okay,” He makes his way over to her, motioning for her to scooch over and give him room; of course, she obliges. He leans on her, as per usual, as her hands fall back to the keys. 

“I’m sick of them,” She says after a moment. “I’m sick of all of them. They’re so false. They’re so _boring_.” She doesn’t need to specify who she’s referring to -- the memory of her empty eyes is enough. He stays quiet. 

“My parents, too. My brother. They’re all false. Nothing feels _real_ ,” Her finger presses on a key, the low sound filling the room. “... I don’t feel like a real person, Kokichi-kun. It’s scary.” 

“... You’re real, Kaede-chan,” He says, but she laughs bitterly. 

“I don’t feel real at all,” She lets out a long sigh. There’s silence for what feels like an eternity. “... I found a song I think suits you. Want to hear it?” 

“Yeah,” Anything to step away from this topic, so dangerous, so unsteady; he can’t prop Kaede up when her existence is what’s propping _him_ up in the first place. “Let me hear the song Kaede-chan picked just for me.” 

For once, she doesn’t roll her eyes at the statement. She organises her papers for a moment, and rests her hands on the keys again. 

“Ahem. This is Chopin’s Raindrops Prelude, played specifically for Kokichi-kun.” 

The piece shakes in places, but it’s soothing; it’s so sad, and melancholy, but so lovely -- is this how Kaede sees him? He feels… Touched. Safe. 

He’s not used to feeling ‘safe’. Should he feel ‘safe’ when Kaede’s existence is like a black hole? 

Kokichi falls asleep on Kaede’s shoulder as she plays. He hasn’t slept that well in a long time.

 

* * *

 

“Amami-kun is doing well this season,” Kaede comments off-hand. He’d nearly forgotten about the existence of _Danganronpa_ until the moment. 

“How many trials have there been?” He asks, swallowing back his hesitation. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit, but he doesn’t want Kaede to know that. What if she leaves him? He’s not sure what he’d do then. He’s not sure he can go back to being alone. 

“This is the fourth one,” She shifts her phone over so he can get a look. He pretends to watch, but fixes his gaze on the phone’s clock instead. “He’s like the protagonist of this season, I think. They usually pick someone out to be one. A protagonist, a rival, and a heroine,” She makes a face. “It gets kind of formulaic sometimes, but the killings are what make it so interesting.” 

“A rival? Like an enemy?” 

“Kind of. They’re usually a good guy, though. Just… Misunderstood,” She points to a girl with cropped, neon pink hair. “She’s the rival this time. She’ll get it bad online, since she’s a girl. _Danganronpa_ has lots of girls who are messed up, but if she’s important to the protagonist, she’ll get a lot of hate online.” 

He hums quietly in response, not quite sure what to say. Kaede turns up the volume. 

“-- Just let them get killed?!” The rival’s voice is _loud_. “I won’t stand by while you all play friends, then stab each other in the back!” 

The words stick out to Kokichi. He finally turns his gaze to the trial. Kaede sucks her teeth. 

“That’s a death flag,” She says sagely. “She’ll be the next one to go. But her death will be a stepping stone for them to figure out the mystery.” 

“... How do you know?” 

“Every few seasons, they do that,” She shrugs. “Sometimes the rival lives, but if they’re trying to save everyone, they always die. I don’t think the producers like it when they insult the show.” 

“Do you want to be the rival when you apply?” 

“Nah. I think I’d make a good protagonist,” She drops her phone to the floor and rolls onto her back. “But the protagonist never dies, so that puts me at a loss. It’d be neat if they did kill the protagonist, some time.” 

“You think _you’re_ protagonist material?” He shifts the conversation to a joke, to steer away from the topic of her death. He’s getting good at this, lately; he doesn’t want to imagine her dying. 

“Not really, but,” She scrunches her nose. “I’m good enough at pretending. I’d play the protagonist part, kill someone, then die. Wouldn’t that make a good season?” 

Kokichi thinks it sounds awful, but he doesn’t say that to her. 

“Then… I’d be your rival,” He says instead, mirroring her position on the floor of her room. 

“My rival?” 

“Yeah,” He closes his eyes. “I’d mess with the murder scenes and make your life _way_ harder, Kaede-chan.” She swats at him. 

“A rival character did that a few seasons ago,” She says, her voice filled with distaste. “The murderer treated his victim better than the rival did. The victim was hiding this secret, the murderer got jealous and killed them, but he tried to hide the secret anyway. He was a good guy.” 

“He killed someone,” Kokichi shoots back, stomach churning. 

“Yeah, but… What good is humanity, anyway? … They’re all the worst.” 

“... Even me?” 

Kaede turns, and meets his eyes -- her empty gaze is like a curse. 

“You, and me too,” She says solemnly. Kokichi feels like he’s going to throw up. “People who want to die are hated for a reason, you know. We’re burdens to everyone else.” 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he takes her hand instead. 

She doesn’t squeeze back today.

 

* * *

 

“My name is--” Some rustling from the interviewers drowns out his introduction. He hopes he won’t have to redo it. “... A friend introduced me to _Danganronpa_ lately. We wanted to apply together.” 

“Together?” One of the interviewers questions. All of them are wearing masks of _Danganronpa_ ’s mascot, so he can’t see their faces. He assumes there’s voice altering tech in them too.

He swallows. 

“We wanna die,” He says, though his tongue feels too big for his mouth. “So we wanna go together.”

 

* * *

 

“I applied,” She says one day, a few weeks after _Danganronpa_ season 52 has ended. His stomach drops. 

“Did you get in?” 

“I don’t know yet,” She leans her cheek on his head, just like she always does. “It takes a few weeks for them to process and choose the next participants.” 

They fall into silence, after that. His expression is blank, but his thoughts race. 

He wants to die, but there’s that part of him that’s so scared -- and that part of him is _pathetic_. He wants to die, he doesn’t want to die; he can’t make up his mind. Kaede made up her mind. She’s set. She wants to die spectacularly, in a blaze of glory, a death for her and her alone. 

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why the death orchestrated by others is ‘her exclusive death’. He doesn’t understand why she thinks the killing game is so amazing. He thinks it’s the most awful thing, to have your death be made into a spectacle for others. 

She told him once, she used to dream of playing piano and making people smile. Does she now think her death will do the same thing? 

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand her, or the people who watch _Danganronpa._ He doesn’t understand one but, but if he did-- 

If he did, maybe he could save them both. 

“I’ll miss you,” Is all he says. She laughs dryly.

 “At least someone will,” And her words are so _lonely_ , so sad, he makes up his mind on the spot.

* * *

 “Die _together_?” The interviewer asks again. He nods.

 “Like a joint suicide,” He explains. They murmur amongst themselves for a moment.

 “We can’t make any promises for the show itself,” They tell him. He nods again.

 “I know. The truth is... Ideally, I want to save her. Like a prince on a white horse,” He says. “We’ll make it out together, and find the meaning in life, or something.”

 They murmur again. He bites back bile as his mouth slides into a cutting smile. He’s got to make himself interesting if he’s going to get in.

 He’s got to get in to _save her_.

 “That’s all a lie though~”

 When did he stop thinking about wanting to die enough to want her to think the same?

If he’d realised earlier, could he have stopped her?

* * *

The game will start in a few hours. The location is incredible (the amount of money they make from toying with lives makes him want to vomit) and he spends the last hours he has as ‘himself’ sitting in the courtyard and waiting.

 He’s scared.

 He wants to cry.

 Instead, he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood.

 No matter what happens next ‘Kokichi-kun’ and ‘Kaede-chan’ will die in a few hours. All he can do is hope his ‘next self’ can fulfil his wish. 

* * *

The seconds pass like hours as he waits for the impact.

 Ouma is going to die in a few seconds. Mixed in with the fear is a sense of relief.

 He thinks.

 He thinks about Momota, Saihara, and Harukawa. As much as Momota didn’t get it, he supposes he’s not going to miss Ouma when he’s dead. None of them will. They’re the ones he’s spent the most time with, but they won’t miss him at all. ... Harukawa is a given, maybe, but still.

 Neither will the others, of course; he knows he’s the most hated out of them all. He knows he deliberately made it worse. With Iruma dead, he’s the villain.

 It’s still his fault Iruma died. Even if Gonta was the one who physically did it, it was only because Ouma--

 He’s a hypocrite, like Akamatsu. He gave into the killing game, too.

 He’d started to remember bits and pieces, as time went on. Dreams of a rooftop, and piano keys, and lying on the floor together. They don’t mean anything to him now, of course; the person he was before this game is dead. The person ‘Kokichi-kun’ wanted to save died long before he could do anything about it.

 It’s a little sad. In the end, he was just part of the game. 

 They both were.

 “Kaede-chan,” He whispers.

 

 

 The press comes down.

**Author's Note:**

> prologue kaede always strikes me as a dangerous sort of existence -- the charisma of a protagonist who can unite people and get them to follow her, but the emptiness of someone who doesn't trust humanity. i think 'black hole' is the term best suited to how i feel about how she might be -- you know she's unhealthy, but you're too wrapped up in her to extract yourself. i'd like to write more fics on prologue kaede and the other kids eventually.
> 
> i really like oumaede... i love saihara, but man i'd give anything to see the rivalry between kaede and ouma instead. kodaka owes me $3 for the bait and switch tbfh. give me the kaede content, coward.
> 
> i'm not sure how clear the reference is but the "prince on a white horse" line is meant to be an ironic play on the kanji for "ouma". 
> 
> also yeah i did drag togami part-way through this. fuck that dude my guys. it's been years and im still pissed.


End file.
